Ponderosa Love
by Clementine Folchart
Summary: This is a story of one of Joe's crushes. He had many, but Ruthie was special.
1. Riding into Town

**A/N: I don't own any of the characters or stories of Bonanza.**

_**Ruthie**_

I rode into Virginia City, tired and dirty and hungry like no "lady" should be. But I'm not a lady. Never have been. Won't ever be.

The town hotel loomed up in front of me, clean and inviting. I kept riding past it to the livery. My stallion had to be taken care of first. He was tired and dirty and hungry as well, probably even more so than me. I stopped at the livery, payed the man in charge, and groomed, fed and watered Lancelot. My saddle bags came with me to the hotel, where I checked in, got my key, and staggered up the stairs to my room, where I flopped on the bed and fell asleep in my clothes.

_**Joe**_

All the girls that usually came into town looked prim and proper and clean. Not this one. She was the exact opposite of all those others that had ridden into town before her. Dirty and exhausted, this girl was even more beautiful than all the others. And I had seen _lots _of others. Her brown hair hung in a limp braid down her back, and her pretty face was looking straight ahead.

I was waiting for Pa and Adam to be done in the bank when she rode by. Her saddlebags were packed full and she was riding a dun stallion. He looked tired too; they had obviously ridden quite a ways. She didn't even see me. Not that that was a problem. I'd get her to see me sooner or later.

She went into the livery, then the hotel, and by that time, Pa and Adam were done in the bank. We rode home, and I was quiet the whole time, thinking of the girl.

_**Ruthie**_

I woke up the next morning refreshed from my sleep but still feeling very dirty. I washed up best I could in the wash basin on the nightstand, then went down to the lobby and out to the street to find a bath house.

Soon enough, I found a nice one, payed, and waited for the woman to draw my bath. I closed and locked the door, then slowly peeled off my dirty clothes. Stepping into the hot water, I felt all of the dirt melt off me. I sat there, enjoying myself, letting my muscles relax. They were sore from the many days on the trail. I was riding away from my family.

My mother and sister were dead, and my father had started drinking again. He didn't care about me, anyway, so I just decided to leave. Everything I owned was in my saddlebags. I was kinda just traveling, seeing where the roads would take me. I didn't care, so long as they took me far away from my father and my dead sister and mother.

_**Joe**_

I couldn't think of anything but that girl. I thought of her when I did my chores. I thought of her in bed, at night, in bed, in the morning. At the table, at breakfast, lunch and dinner. All the time.

I had to do something about her.


	2. First Hoofsteps

**A/N: I don't own any of the characters or stories of Bonanza.**

_**Ruthie**_

The next day, as I was getting up and out of bed, I had this odd feeling that I needed to go check Lancelot.

I got these odd feelings quite often, and whenever I did get them, I made sure to heed them, as I did that time. I headed down to the livery, and when I got to Lancelot's stall, I found a man standing in front of the stall, his hand over the stall door, stroking my Lancer.

It was quite unsettling, that handsome, dark-haired man standing at the stall door, and my horse letting himself be pet. Usually, my horse never let anyone touch him besides me.

"Sir, you are aware that you are touching my horse?" I asked the man.

He tipped his hat and answered, "No miss, I didn't know he was yours. I just had to come look at him, though, he's so handsome. My Pa has a dun stallion too."

"How interesting. What line's he from? My boy's from King Arthur. Beautiful stallion he was. Shame he died."

"Heard of that line. Never seen as fine a stallion from it as yours. What's his name?" This man was very inquisitive.

"Lancelot. But I call him Lancer. He's an amazing reiner, and he's real steady on the trail. Fast when I want him to be, too," I answered. I could talk horseflesh if need be. But now it was my turn to ask the questions.

"So, what's a horse literate man doing around these parts? I haven't met anyone who knows horses good as you for a whiles."

"My Pa owns the Ponderosa. We do some horse tradin' now and then."

"What's the Ponderosa?" I asked, confused.

"You've never heard of the Ponderosa? You sure must be from far away! Everyone round here knows that it's the biggest ranch for hundreds of thousands of miles. I feel sorry for you if you've not seen its beautiful land. Maybe I could show you around?" His eyebrow rose above his eyes just the slightest bit. It was intriguing. I didn't really know what to say, but my curiosity won me over.

"That sounds fine! Meet me at seven here tomorrow and-hey, I don't even know your name!"

He smiled a very charming smile and stuck his hand out.

"Joe. Joe Cartwright. And you?" I gave him my hand and we shook.

"Ruth Armenta. Pleased to meet you."

_**Joe**_

I had made progress! I was elated. I was meeting her tomorrow and I was going to show her not only the beautiful countryside, but also my person.

I would bring her to all my favorite places on the Ponderosa, show her the tall ponderosa pines for which the ranch is named, the lake, the mountains, the great open meadows. She would be charmed not only by nature, but by me.

_**Ruthie**_

The next day dawned, and I woke up with the sun, excited. Maybe the prospect of spending the day in nature and with a handsome man was getting to me. I washed, then put on a fresh pair of culottes, then braided my hair and pinned it up. Very last, I stuck my small pistol in the waist of my culottes, and buckled on my gun belt. Yes, it was improper for a lady to carry a gun, but as I said before, I'm not a lady and won't ever be. And I didn't even know this man; he could be vile, for all I knew.

I then headed down to the stables, where I brushed, bridled, and saddled Lancer.

Lancer was prancing; he knew I was excited and he was getting infected by my excited energy. I took a moment to calm myself down. If Lancelot got out of control, it could be bad. Excited stallions are not good things.

Just as I was getting ready to walk out of the livery door and check to see if Mr. Cartwright was there yet, Mr. Cartwright himself walked through the big double doors of the livery, leading a handsome black and white paint gelding.

Mr. Cartwright smiled as soon as he saw me and tipped his hat at me. His hazel eyes twinkled underneath his black hat, his charming smile flashing at me. I noticed that his hair was curly; a few locks stuck out from beneath his hat. I also noticed his clothes: normal brown work pants and an off-white shirt, covered by a very unique green leather jacket. His black gun belt hung quite casually from his hip. He was left-handed.

I don't know why I noticed all these things. Usually I could have cared less what a man was wearing, but there was something interesting about this man.

_**Joe**_

Even though her gaze just flickered over me for a second, I could tell she was taking me in. I liked it. I did my best to look good. But then I had to end it.

"How are you this fine morning, Miss Armenta? Are you ready for our ride?"

"Yes, very much so. I can't wait to see the land you praise so highly! Let's get going." She said this with conviction and a confident smile, then walked over to her horse and stepped up without any trouble at all. Few of the women I had met could step up on their horses without help. Obviously, this woman was an accomplished rider. I now not only found her attractive, but I respected her as well.

Her clothes only helped my view of her. Though I enjoyed women who dressed up, I found women who could work in their clothes highly appealing. I saw that if the women respected themselves, they had no need for fancy clothes. People who respected themselves were my favorite kind of people. I found that those kinds of people were the most interesting kinds of people.

A gold chain hung at her collarbone, most of it disappearing into her shirt. I wondered what was at the end of that chain.

_**Ruthie**_

As he stepped up onto his paint, I smiled. I looked forward to what he was going to show me.

Beneath me, Lancer pranced a bit. I was letting my excitement out through the tension in my body, and my horse felt it. I took a deep breath, loosened my grip on the reins, and let my knees slacken just a bit. Lancer stopped prancing.

I nudged Lancer's sides with my heels, and he moved to follow Mr. Cartwright's horse.

We trotted through Virginia City in the direction of the Ponderosa. Mr. Cartwright's paint had nice movement, and was getting excited. Even though I made sure I was calm, accidents happen, and Lancelot took in the other horses' energy. He reared, whinnying.

It was most likely a pretty picture if there would have been onlookers (there weren't), but for me, it was annoying. I leaned forward into Lancer's neck, and with a grimace, yanked on the bit and dug my heels into his sides. This brought my horse down, but it didn't take the excitement out of him. He still tried to buck me. I kept a firm grip on the reins, then yelled at Mr. Cartwright: "I have to run him, show him who's in charge!" Then I kicked Lancer's sides with all my might and he took off at a full gallop, kicking up dust with his heels.

_**Joe**_

I spurred Cochise and we took off after Ruth and Lancelot. Her skill with her horse set her even farther apart from other girls. I was beginning to love her.

After about a hundred feet, she abruptly pulled Lancelot into a sliding stop, raising a cloud of dust. She spun him to the left, then the right, then left again, then pushed him backwards, then sideways, then stopped him and collected his neck. I saw his sides heaving. She was panting too. She took off her hat and fanned herself with it.

I walked Cochise over to her.

"I'm sorry about all that, Mr. Cartwright. But you, if anyone, should know that a horse needs to know who's master, and I can't have him thinking that it's him." She fanned herself some more.

"I can't say anything other than that I admire your skill. Anybody else would have fallen off that horse. That was a sight," I answered, awestruck by her calm demeanor.

She laughed, then bowed slightly in saddle.

"Why thank you, Mr. Cartwright, you are most kind." She sat up straight again and looked at me, smiling. I smiled back. Her grin was infectious.

"You're most welcome, Miss Smithens. Oh, and please call me Joe. No one except people that are selling me stuff calls me Mr. Cartwright."

"All right, then thank you, Joe." She laughed again. To hear her laugh was to hear the wind through the trees or the thunder of the hooves of a herd of horses or the babbling of a brook. It was beautiful.

We clucked to our horses and moved forward.


End file.
